“You were supposed to be at that party. Where were you last night, huh?” Ifra yelled into the phone.
She was speaking so loudly that Bilqish had to pull the phone away from her ear.
“I’m sorry, Ifra, for not coming. But you already know why,” Bilqish replied calmly.
“Yeah, I know, Ish. But still, you should try to be more social.”
Ifra had been calling her Ish since the very first day they met. She couldn’t pronounce Bilqish properly and gave her a nickname that somehow stuck.
“I promise I’ll come to the next party, whatever it is. So please stop being mad,” Bilqish added. She didn’t like upsetting people, especially not Ifra.
“You know I can’t stay mad at you for long.” Ifra sighed. “Forget it. Tell me—what did you make for lunch? I’m seriously craving your food.”
And just like that, everything between them was fine again.
“Just come over. I’ll cook whatever you want—I promise.”
Ifra grinned on the other side of the call, whispered a soft “Thank you,” and rushed to get ready.
“You know, you make the best food I’ve ever tasted. It’s literally the only reason I’m still your best friend,” Ifra said with a laugh after devouring two full plates of chicken biryani.
“Yeah, yeah,” Bilqish muttered, rolling her eyes affectionately.
“How are Aunty and Uncle?” she asked, referring to Ifra’s foster parents.
“They’re good. They miss you too. You should visit sometime,” Ifra replied, her tone softening.
“You're lucky to have them. And that they support your dreams, too,” Bilqish said, her voice turning quiet. A wave of emotion passed through her. She was happy for her friend—truly—but deep down, a small ache remained.
She had always wanted someone to call her own. Parents. A family. But she'd been an orphan since birth. No one knew who her parents were. She had grown up in the orphanage—alone—until one day, when she was five, Ifra arrived. Her parents had died in a car accident, and she’d been sent to the same orphanage.
From that moment, the two had been inseparable.
But everything changed when they turned thirteen. Ifra was adopted. That day, they clung to each other and cried as though the world was ending. Fate, however, had been kind. Ifra’s new family stayed in the same city and allowed her to attend the same school. And soon, her foster parents became fond of Bilqish too.
Some families had shown interest in adopting Bilqish as well, but it never worked out. Why? No one ever told her.
Author’s Note: Not a mystery to me though! 🫣
Still, whatever the reason, things had worked out. She had her best friend. And that was enough for now.
Bilqish stared at her wardrobe, biting her lip. She had no clue what to wear for her first day back at university after the semester break. It was her final year, and once it was over, she could find a full-time job and, hopefully, live a peaceful life. She was never fond of academics.
Her phone rang.
“Are you ready? I’m on my way!” Ifra chirped.
“Yeah! I’m waiting for you in our café. Come fast—I’ve already ordered your favorites,” Bilqish said with a grin, knowing food was the quickest way to lure Ifra.
“Say no more. I’m speeding.”
.
.
.
“Don’t you think it’s time we had boyfriends?” Ifra asked suddenly, her voice dreamy.
“What do you mean? We don’t need anyone,” Bilqish replied flatly.
“Oh, you mean you don’t need one. I do,” Ifra teased.
“Let’s go. It’s lunch break. You can daydream about imaginary lovers later,” Bilqish said, dragging her best friend to the cafeteria.
“Whoa, is he the new guy?” Ifra exclaimed.
“Who?”
“That one. Sitting in the last row.”
“I guess so. Why?”
“He’s cute. Don’t you think?”
Bilqish frowned. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve never acted like this before.”
“I watched a series last night. The best friends in it acted like this, so I thought I’d try it out. But if you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”
“It’s better if you do. I don’t want any distractions this year—and neither should you. It’s our final year. Focus, Ifra.”
“Understood,” Ifra said with a pout.
“Good. Now let’s get to our next class.”
“Ugh, can’t we skip? Let’s just go to the library instead. I really don’t feel like sitting through boring lectures.”
Bilqish studied her friend’s face, then sighed. “Okay, let’s go.”
Ifra beamed, grabbed her books, and the two headed to the library—unaware that a pair of brown eyes was silently observing their every move.
“Where should we go for lunch?” Ifra asked as they sat down.
“Did you forget? You just ate three sandwiches!” Bilqish shot back.
Ifra pouted again. “That’s why I said later.”
“You’re impossible. Fine. Let’s go home—I’ll cook something for you.”
“Seriously? You should’ve said that earlier. We didn’t need to come to the library then. Yay, let’s go!”
“You’re acting like a child now.”
“Because I am a child,” Ifra said with a giggle, and Bilqish joined her in laughing.
—Time Skip—
“Mmm… You’re a great chef, m’lady,” Ifra said in a fake British accent as she devoured her lunch, pausing between bites to praise her best friend.
“You’re doing the dishes today,” Bilqish declared, standing up and heading to her room for an afternoon nap.
Grumbling under her breath, Ifra did the dishes, locked the door carefully, and left for her own home.
A/n: it's just a little introductory chapter. Make sure to like and comment your views.🫶
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